Page 49 of Heir to a Curse

Chapter 19

We raced through plant life I felt could have fit perfectly in Wonderland, only it all had a bit of an Asian feel, giant cherry blossoms and glowing rice fields. Stalks of bamboo that rose into the sky like Jack’s beanstalk. The appearance of some large structure in the distance had him gripping my hand tighter and dragging me to move faster.

It was then I noticed the sound behind us, something slithering through the grass. Not a small sound either, more a cracking of timber and crushing thickets. Something huge was behind us, moving fast in our direction, like a giant snake. I vaguely recalled that first night, seeing that woman shift and morph into something with tentacles. Perhaps it was her?

I clung to Xiang’s hand and focused on my steps, letting him lead me up into a sprawling palace much like the one I’d dreamt of since arriving at the estate. We wove our way through empty walkways, past dozens of broken doorways, gaping with holes into darkness. The first actual door we opened, caused him to slow, though that room was just as empty as the rest. The door had thousands of small marks on it, scratched in the surface, though it too was damaged and barely on the frame. They all seemed made of the same material, thin and lightweight, possibly the bamboo, though I didn’t have time to examine them. The walls seemed sturdier, and there were few windows, the only ones up high and small slits near the slanted roofs.

He led me across a half dozen paths through more doors in similar damaged states, some still holding, though not as solid as they might have been. It was almost as though something had been destroying the doors one by one. We wove further into the complex, a maze of buildings, paths, and doors, into the center where a giant double door loomed, covered in paper talismen and glowing.

“Do they come this far?” I asked quietly.

“Sometimes. If I’m out too long. When I first arrived here, I was in the outermost buildings. I’ve had to push back many times over the years.”

Where we stood now seemed the center. Paths led outward, but all centering to this one building. He reached for the door and the glow brightened until the door swung open and we could step inside. This last room was piled with things. Stacks of books, fabrics, pieces of broken furniture, and even glimpses of the world I knew with a few electronics sitting near a table. It looked a bit like a Chinese episode of Hoarders, only everything crammed into one room instead of a house and more organized into stacks.

The door closed behind us and I felt a barrier go up, something in my chest lightening because we were safe. At least for the moment. He led me around the stacks of books, some looking recent and in English as the covers were familiar classics, and to a small alcove where he seemed to have created his own little space.

“All this stuff?” I asked, not understanding.

“Sometimes people leave things…” He sounded embarrassed.

“And you bring it here?” I waved at the electronics.

“They don’t work here. But often times when I try to return them, the people who left them are gone. The books are helpful.”

“Is that how you speak such good English?”

“Listening, and yes, some reading. I’m not as good as I’d like with it. But I still practice. It’s hard to learn without being able to ask questions.”

The alcove had an area heaped with fabrics, looking a bit like a bed, a small table with a tea set, and a basket full of blank papers. Obviously, more talisman for the doors.

“Wait,” I said, my alcohol addled brain slow on the uptake. I had a moment of thinking that this was his private space, and I was there invading it.

He turned, pulling me close, arm around my waist, distance gone as his body pressed to mine, fitting against me like he belonged there. I tilted my head down to stare down into those gorgeous dark eyes, illuminated by pale moonlight wafting through talisman covered windows up high on the walls. I couldn’t help my sigh of contentment as I wrapped my arms around him.

“I’m not usually so familiar,” I muttered. “I had a bit to drink.” Was any of this real? If not, it was the oddest dream ever, yet I didn’t want it to end. I leaned forward to touch my forehead to his.

“You’re intoxicated?” He confirmed.

“Only a little,” I promised.

He put a hand on my cheek, the touch of his skin soft and warm against me. So real. My cock hardened at the thought of his hands on me, and for a moment it felt wrong to touch him that way. Like a violation of something sacred, but I couldn’t imagine anything I wanted more.

“I’m not the kind of guy who just…” I didn’t even know how I wanted to define it, what I wanted and what rarely crossed my mind. But I matched his movement, putting a hand on his face, caressing the skin there, marveling at him like I could stare forever and still not have him memorized.

“Fuck,” I grumbled, leaning in to taste his lips again. I prayed this time I’d have something beyond the alcohol to prove it was real. And I did. His lips warm and soft like worn silk, they parted for me, let me in to taste him, a hint of tea and something green. He returned my curiosity and passion, lips and tongue exploring mine.

“Sorry about the alcohol,” I apologized between kisses. “I don’t normally drink. Just missed you a lot. Couldn’t think of another way to dial down the pain.”

He sighed sweetly against my lips like he was thrilled by my confession. He traced his fingers over my cheek and into my hair, curling their graceful length into it and tugging.

I let out a strangled moan, arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him so tightly against me he probably felt my cock digging into him. “Too many robes,” I whined against his lips. I wanted to feel him, see him, touch him, and memorize him.

A flash of a memory erupted in my head, and faded just as fast. A glimpse of us together in the past, passion and lust flaring. Like it wasn’t the first time I’d touched him. Yet it was. “I don’t want to replay old memories,” I told him.

He stiffened, pulling back from the kiss and looking up to meet my eyes.

“I want only new memories going forward,” I said. “I was an asshole to you. Can’t we start over?”